Habit is a compromise effected between an individual and his environment.

What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in the immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come

To think, when one is no longer young, when one is not yet old, that one is no longer young, that one is not yet old, that is perhaps something.

How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up for her all my life.

Birth was the death of him.

Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear

Estragon: Suppose we repented. Vladimir: Repented what? Estragon: Oh...(He reflects.) We wouldn’t have to go into the details. Vladimir: Our being born?